A Kokiri Christmas
by FortuneHost
Summary: Saria thinks everyone's forgotten the reason for the season yet she'll find there's at least one Kokiri who still cares, but that's not the only thing she'll discover.
1. Chapter 1

It was the latter half of winter in Hyrule, when a frigid air swept through the kingdom, prompting the kindling of mighty fireplaces and giving lovers everywhere an excuse to cuddle closer to one another. Snow and ice were the order of the day, and the ancient forests were no exception.

Many legends were told of this place, and many names it went by. The forefathers of the Hylian race called it _Hyperborea_, and modern day patricians could still be heard using this name, especially among the classically educated. To those who dwelt in the fertile province of Hibernia, at the southward of the Hyrule Fields, it had been given the title of _Tir na n__Ó__g_. Most however simply called it the Kokiri Forest, though the namesake of the emerald realm were believed to have passed from the world. While it was true that long had it been since the ageless fey walked among mortals, their descendants lived still, sheltered and hidden from the outside.

The only residents who ever had dealings with the _h__y__nar__u_, the "Not Us," were a particular group of forest spirits that specialized in such things, for many who called the ancient woods home would do a poor job at the task; the branchwraiths were too fearsome, and the dryads shy and too deeply wed to the heartwood that bore their souls. Instead it was left to the purview of to those who, by their own speech called themselves _ðuülühim_, the "spirits of agreement," but to the Hylians they were known by the low, mean name of "Business Scrubs."

Members of this ancient race would meet outsiders from beyond the runed menhirs that marked the borders of their sylvan domain, procuring goods and supplies for the Children of the Forest. Yet never did they speak of their Kokiri kin, for long ago the Fair Folk had resolved to keep the stories as just that; stories. Thus whenever asked about such legends the Business Scrubs would fiercely dismiss even the slightest rumour of the Children's persistence as mere fable. As for why all in the Forest maintained this elaborate deception, it was not spoken of… perhaps it was no longer even remembered.

None of this troubled the young Kokiri who went by the name of Link. To him it was the approach of the midwinter celebration of Yuletide. While mostly regarded as a Hylian observance, this never stopped others from enjoying the festivities. In pursuit of this, he happily made his way towards the 'trading post' of the Kokiri, where the ðuülühimar had come to distribute the various supplies from the outside world. While most things the Forest provided, there were items that could be obtained no other way; metal tools (for smiths were all but unknown here), lumber (for to cut down one of the living trees of the Forest would be unthinkable) and exotic foodstuffs (much of it mundane to even the average Hylian, but to Kokiri rare delicacies.) Link, however, sought something else. Occasionally, one could find among the wares of the Scrubs, treasures, specifically those of foreign craft. He held out hope that today was one of those lucky days, but not to procure anything for his own, rather a gift for another.

It bears note that gift-giving, while common in other lands for this holiday, was not a custom the Kokiri practiced with any regularity, choosing instead to focus on giving thanks, spending time with those dear, and not to mention enjoying some of the aforementioned treats from beyond their borders (roasted chestnuts and honeyed plums were particular favourites.) Still, once in a while a gift might be given, though superstition held that to give a Yuletide gift in hopes of receiving one yourself, that is, to view it as a mere transaction, would invite bad luck that would follow you until the coming of the new year.

After a brief stint of somewhat idle browsing, his eyes noted a curious item formed of the needle-leaves of evergreen trees and woven into a large ring of fair size. He could not help but puzzle at it, not seeing any purpose in it and nothing that might serve as indication or even a hint as to its purpose. A thought occurred to him, he wondered if this was some kind of hat and to his astonishment, it indeed fit around his head. This sealed his decision, and after thanking the particular Scrub, walked away with it happily, proud as one can be.

* * *

Saria hummed as she busied herself with preparing her contribution to the village feast, an unspoken expectation of everyone in the community, or at least everyone who attended. She didn't need any of that convincing, being fully willing to help regardless of any peer pressure. No one would dare insinuate otherwise, because while she never boasted about it, everyone knew the meaning of her full Kokiri name, _S__ü__ry__ü__tumno_, the "kind and beautiful soul." Such a name was earned, as that kindness extended not merely to those who were already well-liked, but also often to those whom others shunned, and there was no one more shunned than Link. As chance would have it, he appeared at the door as soon as he had come to mind, as though her thoughts had summoned him. She watched him shiver, doing his best to shake off the mild chill he'd escaped outside. Saria smiled, something that was as easy as breathing around him.

"Fire's already hot," she said, "make yourself comfortable."

It was not long before she joined him, sitting along with him around the indoor bonfire she'd built, the closest thing that Kokiri used to a stove or furnace. Saria couldn't help but notice the way the flames made a warm orange light dance on his face. For some reason this prompted a sigh, and while she thought it had been discreet, he clearly heard.

"Saria? What's the matter?"

Was something the matter, was that a sigh of exasperation or contentment? She couldn't tell, though it came from her own voice. That said, there had been something on her mind, and Link was the only one she confided in regarding such things.

"I've been giving it some thought, and I… I don't think I'm going to the Feast this year."

"Why not? You go every year."

"I'm just not… I don't think I want to spend my time with them. Not right now."

"Why not? Everyone likes you! I've never heard them be mean to you, not once… unless… have they? Did they?" Link asked, with no small amount of steel in his voice.

"No, nobody's really picked on me, but they're rude, they're petty, they pick on others and… well, I just don't want to be any part of that."

"Saria if this is on my account then please, I don't want you to miss something important to you."

"That's just the thing, I don't know if it is important to me anymore."

"Even though you went to all the trouble of making something to bring?"

"I think it was out of habit, going through the motions, and that's kind of what I'm talking about."

"How so?"

"Yuletide's supposed to be about caring for others, except all anyone ever really does is give it lip service, but the Wild Hunt doesn't even get that! They've forgotten about our holiday, the Kokiri holiday, they've forgotten who we are. It all feels so phony, but nobody even cares."

Link walked over to her, placing her hands in his.

"I care. If you don't want to go, then I won't either."

"You don't need to do that. I won't stop you from celebrating."

"Oh I didn't say there wouldn't be celebrations," he said with a grin, "If no one else is going to celebrate the Old Ways then it's up to us, just you and me."

"That's very sweet of you, but are you sure?"

"Without a doubt. Would you mind telling me the story?"

In truth, Link had already heard it before, but he also knew that nothing on earth made Saria happier than getting to share the vast trove of ancient Kokiri lore that she'd committed to memory and heart. Her genuine love of the old songs lent any tale she told additional beauty and wonder that could be heard nowhere else, not even from the Great Deku Tree, who had often been present when the legends actually happened. So it was with rapt attention that he listened as she spun the legend of the Hunt, of the gohma lord Tobelimith who plunged the Forest into a frigid, unceasing darkness, and the hallowed shining gem that defied that Evernight, borne by Sathìen, the half-angel Cocýry. Saria recounted the suspense, the horror, and danger as the cruel Tobelimith stole both gem and maiden, and her words painted the picture of Arawin, the brave young hunter who tracked the kidnapped Flower-Daughter and triumphed over her loathsome captor, returning both the sunlight of Valaman and the moonlight of Lunboellu to their verdant home.

She stayed neither still nor idle, letting the storycraft fill her with joy and vigour, merrily singing and dancing along with the words. Link knew he was the only witness she allowed to this performance, and it warmed him to be granted that blessed privilege. It somewhat recalled that spring day they'd met so many years ago, and something about that memory and its echo in the present before him caused his cheeks to blush a subtle rose hue. The boy found himself hoping the change in shade was obscured by the flame's warm light, especially as he was reminded of his secret name for her, one he'd never had the temerity to say aloud, not even to his truest, deepest friend in All Creation.

Seeking to distract from what he feared would be an awkward explanation (who blushes in front of their best friend?) he stood up and applauded, to which she bowed with deserved pride.

"So," Link said, "now that I know the story, how do we go about celebrating?"

"Well, there was a still a celebratory meal, but that only happens after the actual Wild Hunt. One person plays the part of Sathìen and hides in the woods, and the others have to find them like Arawin."

"Others? Do… do we need a lot of people to do it right?"

She smiled, "Traditionally, but it was also seen as perfectly acceptable for friends and lovers to pair off and do their own Hunts."

"Well then let's get going before it gets dark out."

* * *

_To be continued_…


	2. Chapter 2

Though the air was cool and Link could almost see his breath, the temperature never fell so far as to be unpleasant, and because of that he had no trouble taking extra time to return home before beginning his search. He retrieved the curious hat he'd procured from the Business Scrubs, hoping to surprise her with it once he'd found her.

Like all Kokiri, Link knew much in the way of tracking and cutting across country, a skill almost impossible to go without learning when one lived in the deep woods, but he also knew Saria was clever, and it would be just like her to put wholesale effort into hiding. Nevertheless, though it took a fair while, he eventually began to recognize the telltale tracks of Kokiri boots, and soon after found a tiny fluff of green thread snagged upon a branch. While a pedantic might point out that all Kokiri wore green and thus such a trail could be made by anyone, they'd be ignoring an important fact. No one else ever dared to leave the safety of the village, only his Saria was so brave… _'__h__is'_ Saria? A curious wording, and from where it arose he did not know.

Although the two of them were fond of wandering these woods, he felt as though he was traversed some strange new land. The white carpet of fallen snow was undisturbed by footprints as though this part of the world was only just shaped, and he was the first to explore it.

_"Well, perhaps not the first,"_ he thought as he spied the signs of footprints in the snow.

Though there had been an effort to cover said prints, this obscuring was not enough to throw Link off the trail. She was indeed giving this her all. His tracking was interrupted when he heard the beat of diminutive wings, soon accompanied by a familiar voice. An orb of light sped towards him with frantic speed. A guiding fairy, specifically Saria's, but all alone, begging the question;

"Oberon? What are you doing here?"

The _falyth_ was clearly distressed, bobbing and flashing in a clear display of panic, but Link could have discerned that from his manic speech alone.

"Master Link, thank goodness! You must come quickly!"

"What's wrong?!" Link said, panic beginning to find its way into his own voice as well.

"She's been hurt, Saria's been injured, follow me!"

The boy could not have run faster if all of Hell itself were at his heels. No feature of the Forest slowed him down as he took flight without wings, effortlessly leaping over every rock and log that dared block his path. Soon he reached her, in a gently sloping trench, the remains of some long-dried river bed now overtaken by shrubs and the thick roots of trees. At the nadir was Saria, sitting up but clutching at her right foot. Link slid down the incline, wasting no time in approaching her location.

"Saria? Are you alright? How bad is it, what-"

"Calm down, it's nothing lethal."

Trying to counteract the adrenaline-fueled fear and determination that had brought him here at such record speed, he took in several deep breaths before resuming.

"Okay, so… tell me what happened, where does it hurt?"

"I saw a cave way over there, and I was thinking it'd make an excellent hiding spot, but I was so focused on it that I didn't notice that the ground suddenly dropped here. My foot got caught up in one of those roots and well, my leg went one way, my ankle went the other. There's a chance that it's broken, or at least sprained, I think."

"So you probably can't walk on it."

"Afraid not, it's why I asked Oberon to look for you."

Link knelt down and removed her shoe to get a better look and determine the nature of her injury. She winced in pain as the boot slipped off.

"Sorry," he said, "Hmm… well, you're right. It's definitely a sprain. I don't suppose you have a healing potion on you?"

"No, unfortunately."

"Then I suppose I could-"

A pause as he felt a few flakes of snow land directly on his nose. Both Kokiri looked up and saw the iron-grey sky begin to drop great sheets of snow upon their heads. They felt too the wind pick up and approach the status of a fierce gale. A storm had begun, there could be no doubt.

"I was _going_ to say I'd carry you to the village, but this doesn't look good."

"No," Saria replied, "and I don't think it'd be wise to try and head back now. There's no way we'll be able to get ahead of the blizzard.

Oberon agreed, doing his best not to revert to his worried, fretful mother-hen demeanour that he was ocassionally guilty of.

"Yes, children, but what shall we do? Without so much as a blanket you'll both catch your death out here!"

Link nodded, "Didn't you say something about a cave up ahead?"

"I did, it's not far off."

As soon as she finished those words, Link swept her off her feet and lifted her into his arms. She was startled at both the sudden movement but also the manner of how she was being held, as Arawin Triumphant did Sathìen at their _tesumyha_. So would that make her Link's blushing angel-bride being carried across the threshold?

"_Oh __merciful __Gods why am I thinking about that?!"_ she thought like a shout in the mind.

* * *

_To be continued_…


	3. Chapter 3

The storm seemed to strengthen its fury with every step Link took, but he strode onward unflinching until the cave was at last in sight. Once inside, with all the care in the world he set Saria down against the rock wall of the cavern. He then arranged a pile of errant stones into an elevation upon which to rest her foot as Oberon instructed. Link was no healer, so he was most grateful for the fairy's centuries of experience.

"Good," said Oberon, "that should serve to ease the injury for the short term."

"And in the long term?" Link asked.

"Well, end of the day there's no substitute for a good potion. Unless… hmm."

Saria raised an eyebrow, "Unless what?"

"There is one alternative, though it would require a bit of a journey."

"Oh there's no reason for-"

Link interrupted her, "Where is it? I'll go right now."

"My apologies, Master Link, but this place is forbidden to mortals. I must go there alone. Besides, I'm an orb of light, you'll make a better guardian than I ever could."

"But all I have is a hunting knife!"

"A _vysel_ is better than nothing, child."

Saria shouted in exasperation, "Oh for goodness sake, will you both just relax? What are you expecting out there, a _Cirithunc__ö__l?"_

Link quickly replied, "Just because the Gohma Lords are gone doesn't mean I'm taking the slightest chance out here. Aren't there still stalfos, wolfos, and-"

"If I might interject, young master," interrupted Oberon, "I believe Lady Saria has a point, we probably are fretting too much. The chance of any unseelie this close to the village is highly unlikely."

"But it's not zero." the boy said.

"Link," Saria said with a sigh, "we'll be fine. There is nothing out there that you can't handle."

"That's right," Oberon agreed "so without further ado, I shall be off. We shall meet again soon."

With the flap of tiny wings and the flash of fairy dust, the _faly__þ__him_ quickly disappeared into the snowstorm, his flight somehow unperturbed by the fierce wind.

* * *

An hour passed, perhaps two, and Oberon had yet to return. The pewter-grey of a stormy afternoon soon turned to a frightful darkness as night fell. Frigid air slid into the cave, and in answer Link struck a fire, hoping the invasive chill would be driven back by the warmth. Between this and more, it would be fair to say that he was doing all he could, yet he could see that Saria still bore unrest, made all the more apparent by a deep sigh.

"Some Wild Hunt this ended up being. I just wanted to do the holiday right, capture the past so I could feel some kind of kinship with the Ancients… but what's the point? Even the weather is against us, like the Gods themselves want the Old Ways dead. Maybe I should have just gone to the Yuletide celebration, just accepted that our… our glory days are gone and the Cocýry are doomed to fade forever."

Link watched a single glass tear fall down her cheek. His heart sunk along with it, broken to see her so melancholy. The boy moved to sit alongside her, drawing close to be there for her in any way he could. He searched his mind, hoping he could ease even the slightest measure of her sadness.

"I mean, there's no real way to tell if the Gods actually do want us gone, but our people survived the Gohma, so I don't see any reason why there isn't hope for us now."

"Is there? Even armies of spider-dæmons is nothing compared to the march of time… or the total apathy of the Village." she said bitterly.

"Well, that doesn't mean it's not worth trying." said Link, "After all, no one else in the Last Grove would go after the light when Tobelimith stole it, but that didn't stop Arawin. He went on ahead and because of his bravery the darkness of the Evernight was banished."

"Except Arawin wasn't all alone!"

"And neither are you." He entwined his fingers in hers and brought their joined hands up to his chest. "Surely as my heart beats, I'll be here. If you want to keep the Old Ways alive then I'll make sure they shine like the First Dawn forever."

She drew close, which let him see her sad eyes that betrayed while she desperately wanted to take heart in what he said, to her hope felt seemed distant as the stars.

"You can't promise that, Link. Even together we're just two people. No matter how hard we try, if nobody else cares our efforts will die with us."

"Then we'll teach those yet to come, and our descendants will make sure the fire never goes out."

"Our… our descendants?"

For the most part, Kokiri were not born as other mortals. The vast majority simply appeared, materialized seemingly out of thin air in the form of infants throughout the Forest, searched for and found by the spirits of the wood. That is how a Kokiri was assigned a falyth; the fairy who finds the child becomes the one to raise guide it. However, it was _possible_ for Kokiri to be born from a union of love, but these Trueborn were immeasurably rare even in the most blessed ages and there hadn't been one for over a thousand years…

Just thinking about this caused Saria to blush a fearsome scarlet, despite all her mental efforts to compose herself.

"_Don't be ridiculous!"_ she thought, _"he just means the Kokiri who will be born from the Forest in the future. __H__e doesn'__t __mean in __that__ way!_"

So engrossed in her own embarrassment, she failed to notice Link's own reaction to what had just been said.

"_I__diot, __you made __it sound like you're… like you're in love with her!"_ the boy scolded himself.

Except was that so hard to imagine? Would it be all that surprising if he fell for the kindest, most compassionate, and brave girl in the whole Forest? The dancing sylph who embodied the grace, wonder, and beauty of the Elder Days when the world was young?

He shook his head as though trying to banish a spell of dizziness, _"No Link! Don't be a fool and mess up the best, most important friendship you have! She's too important to make things awkward with!"_

Link coughed, pretending as though he had not just had a crisis of heart within his own mind.

"Ahem, I… I guess what I'm trying to say is not to worry. Between the two of us, the world will never forget the ancient Cocýry, nor all that they stood for."

Saria only sighed again, "What they stood for… Gods, how far we have fallen. Do you know what the Deku Tree said to me the other day? He said that long ago we used to be tall as Hylians."

"Really? When did that change?"

"Nothing changed but us. Kokiri are supposed to be defined by our free and wild hearts, deep compassion for others, and selfless devotion to our one true love; these are what make our people flourish. It's why even though we look like Hylians we don't age the same way they do, and it's why our ancestors were giants compared to us in more ways than one. You want to know why no one is any taller than a child anymore? It's because the Kokiri of today act like a bunch of spoiled brats!"

Tears wept in twin streams down her cheeks, and she rested her face into her palms. Link couldn't blame her. To see one's people in ruins would no doubt affect even the most stoic, and to be among the last of their kind was a curse he'd not wish for his most bitter foes. What cruelty that it should be inflicted upon the kindest and fairest, the least deserving person in All Creation. So it was without thought that he all but leapt to embrace her, wrapping her in his arms and letting her cry, uncaring of the teardrops that marred his shirt. Countless times had she held and comforted him through numerous bitter moments of his own; he felt it an honour to be return the favour now, whatever she needed and however long. Indeed, many were the tears shed in anguish before she spoke again.

"If the heroes of old could see what we have become, they would weep."

"Saria, if they were here there isn't a doubt in my mind that they'd consider you one of their own."

"How can you say that, how can that be true when I can't even hold a proper Wild Hunt? I try and preserve the tiniest piece of tradition and it ends in disaster."

"You slipped and fell, that doesn't make you Antenör the Traitor; it just means we'll try again next year, or even tomorrow if you want."

"But tomorrow's not-"

"Does the day even matter? You said it yourself, you don't like them going through the motions; so don't feel like you have to for Wild Hunt. I may not know as much about the songs and stories as you do, nobody does, but I don't think the point of any holiday is to be sad or worried, it's to keep the past alive. _When_ the Old Ways are remembered isn't important, or even… maybe not even _how_. My guess is that there's no 'right' way to do it because I don't think the Ancients would mind. I can't imagine them fussing about details and rituals, I'm sure they're happy just to be remembered. Heck, they're probably flattered that someone amazing as my _leluwahim_ is doing everything in her power to make sure they're not forgotten."

She'd intended a reply but found it vanished when her ears caught that name.

"Leluwahim?"

Link gulped, and despite the heat of the nearby flame nearly went into a cold sweat.

"_Oh Gods, did I just say that out loud?"_ he thought.

He saw her blush, burning so bright that she threatened to give the poor boy a sunburn, and he didn't need a mirror to know that his heated cheeks were likewise scarlet as they could be. There was no lying to her now, he really had just let slip that secret, hallowed name that until now he'd kept only for himself, fearful of her reaction to it. _Leluwahim_; "goddess of beauty" in the tongue of the immortal fairies.

"Link, I don't know… well, Gods, I don't know _what_ to say. I've never been so flattered in all my life. Did you think of that just now?"

"No, it's… honestly I've… well… ex-except I never meant to just say it out loud! I am _so_ sorry."

For a great deal of time Saria had wondered if her feelings had changed of late, graduated from friendship into something deeper, but feared that to confess would render what was beautiful into something awkward, poisoning their present camaraderie. Though the ancient Cocýry had many songs of love and held it in the highest esteem, it was an incredibly uncommon occurrence, which was exactly _why_ the romances of the past were so legendary. Most Children of the Forest went their entire lives without experiencing any sort of affection beyond the platonic, so those who did were almost unheard of.

She'd often feared that between the two of them, she alone harboured these amorous passions, but here she was given a sign that perhaps this wasn't the case. Did she dare ask and pry further to ascertain the full nature and extent of his feelings? Would she risk their current relationship for the slim chance it could be something even richer, or would she play it safe, content to keep her heart's longing a secret forever lest she lose it all in the ultimate emotional gamble? So… how reckless was she wiling to be?

* * *

_To be continued_…


	4. Chapter 4

Saria's words came out in a trembling stutter, "W-what… what do you mean 'that way,' Link?"

She still wasn't sure if asking was the right thing, but a part of wanted, no, **needed** to know, and with such desperation that the voices of sense and reason were hard-pressed to stop her. She began to wonder if keeping the longing of her heart a secret would be to live a grave falsehood, and there was hardly any virtue in that, was there? Yet there was still every chance she would regret her decision for the rest of her days.

Though she could not know it, Link also struggled with how much he wished to divulge here, how honest he should be. The boy was just as aware of the long odds that Saria felt anything akin to romance at all, let alone for him… but by the Gods, if he could just put his impossible dreams into words! An affectionate fire roared from within, pleading to see the light of day. It was her question that had ignited it, and Link wondered if the only recourse to avoid burning his soul was…

"Saria, I don't know how to answer that question."

"Link," she said, the tension stripping her voice of any volume above a whisper, "just… please tell me. I can't keep going on any longer without knowing."

The young girl's heart began to resonate in her ears, and Link's was no less frantic in its drum-like beating. Before them was the last moment of uncertainty before the answer that would doubtlessly define their relationship forever after.

"I've… I think…" he said, "oh Gods, I've wanted to tell you for so long. You… you are my Sathìen, my jewel that shines against the Evernight."

He watched a single tear run down her cheek, but what emotion was responsible for it he didn't know, but he could not stop his confession, not now. The once secret words flowed from his lips like a floodgate thrown open.

"Even if you do not feel the same way, I can't get my heart back, it's yours forever, and it has been for so long that I don't even remember what it's like to have it for myself. When we are together I feel a joy that not even the halls of Heaven can approach. There's no way such completeness, such wholeness isn't the envy of angels. Everything that inspires me, makes my heart soar about the Old Ways, the legends of our past and the soothing sound of our ancestors' speech, it's embodied in you."

"Link… I… do you mean that?"

"I do. I'm no bard, I'm not a poet, but in my mind and dreams I've envisioned this moment for so long and I've probably rehearsed it a thousand times, written and rewritten every possible way I can express it, but there doesn't seem to be a way to tell you that matches how I feel. Maybe it comes off as overwrought or florid, even saccharine, but it's the truth."

He brushed aside her hair, massaging her cheek and feeling the warmth of it against his palm.

"Saria, I love you. Not just the _vanas_ between cherished friends, but _iluin_…_i__luin__na__ illo, leluwahim ennic."_

Hylish had but a single word, "love," to describe and encompass the breadth of the forms that affection takes, but the language of Aonyona had several. Of these _iluin _was the most powerful, and was possibly the most sacred word of all in the ancient speech. Not just romance but true love, everlasting and perfect, devoted and selfless, complete and total, the kind of love that legends are made of, like that of Sathìen and Arawin. Such a word had probably not been spoken for millennia, but the power in Link's confession made it obvious that for him the word was fitting and justified.

"Cucülynic…" Saria said breathlessly, whispering his secret name. "Come here."

She opened her arms, beckoning him into an embrace. Once his arms were around her, she whispered into his ears,

"_Ë__una. Illo __ë__u__vel__ iluinna, Cucülynic._ Gods and all the angels be my witness, _en iluinna illo."_

'Me too. You are loved also. I love you.' These words suffused Link with a light unequaled by even the radiance of the Sun. No star in the sky shined like his heart did in this moment, and all thought was banished by the unsullied bliss of this revelation. They held each other as though they feared to let go would be to surrender life itself. Such heady passion is young, innocent love, such earnest purity. Would that all who spoke words of devotion were sincere as these two.

"I was so afraid…" Link said, "I was so afraid to tell you. I was worried that even just to mention my nickname for you would ruin everything."

"Well, I'm glad you made the mistake. It's the most wonderful accident to ever happened."

* * *

Time passed far swifter now; what once was anxious waiting had been rendered into a tender bliss that melted the hours away. The crackle of the fire was a soothing ambiance to the contentment they shared. Link had taken to resting his head in her lap, so relaxed that he would drift in and out of sleep, always waking up to her face. He couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"What?" she asked, amused.

"Nothing, I just think this is the closest to paradise I've ever been. All I need now is for spring to come so that apple tree we found last year can bear fruit again."

She smiled in kind, "Perhaps we'll have to do that when the Forest returns to green. For now I'd settle for being able to stand on my own two feet, but I can be patient as long as we have dry firewood."

"Don't worry about that, if we run out I'll happily brave the cold for you."

Saria rustled his hair endearingly, "I know you would. Tobelimith himself couldn't scare you off.

"Dear Gods, if he came back from the dead, that'd be a Wild Hunt to remember."

"Oh, it already is, Link."

"You have a point there… though I suppose we didn't really do any of the original celebrations. Are you still wanting to?"

"I wouldn't mind, but I've thought about what you said."

"Hmm, about what specifically?"

"That the motions and the rituals don't matter. I can't thank you enough for your wisdom."

Link chuckled, "I don't know if that's really 'wisdom.'"

"Well I do, and the Ancients would agree. If I'd be one of them so would you."

"Even without a fairy?"

"Of course."

Link hadn't thought he could glow any brighter than he already did, but her affirmations managed to do just that. How lucky he was to have met her, and to have her love. Even if their story became forgotten by time, if their names were never spoken again in the Forest, he would be more than satisfied living a life so blessed as this moment. The peace he felt put his weary eyes to rest, and soon Saria fell asleep herself.

* * *

_To be continued_…


	5. Chapter 5

They awoke to the clipped, impatient chirping of Oberon from outside.

"This way, this way, while they're still young!"

After a brief rubbing of the eyes, perhaps a yawn or two, the Kokiri approached the source of the noise at the mouth of the cavern. The morning light reflected off the alabaster snow was blinding, but when the initial glare faded they beheld a veritable wonderland of frost. Removed from the howling, bitter windstorm of the previous evening, they were able to appreciate the frost for its beauty instead of bracing against its chill. Yet for all that, this sight was eclipsed by the appearance of something even more magical. Something at which Saria's smile could have lit the world, causing her to practically shake with excitement. For his part, Link stood locked in place, jaw dropped in utter awe.

There stood a creature from the old stories; a _varinar_. Though in shape akin to a wolf, this was no mundane animal like those found across Hyrule, being far taller and possessed of an undeniably regal countenance, with eyes that bore the glint of true intelligence. The presence of any member of this race would be auspicious enough, but before them was no less than a prince of these lupine folk. Its fur was not grey or silver but white as the snow around them, and curiously its ears were tinged the scarlet of autumn leaves. With such features there could be no question as to its identity. This was no less than a Hound of Arawin, one of a pack of noble beasts said to have accompanied the great hunter on that first Wild Hunt eons ago.

With such a living legend before them, it took a moment for Link to gather the wherewithal to speak.

"O-O-Oberon… who, how?"

"Say hello to an old, old friend of mine, young master."

The varinar bowed its head in acknowledgment, and the children performed a similar motion. It turned to Saria and both heard the Hound's voice, yet neither saw its lip move.

_(Come closer child.)_

She did as requested, watching a pale light shine on her injury, healing what would normally take weeks in mere moments. Saria smiled, happily stretching and flexing her mended foot.

"Ah! Good as new! _S__ë__c__an__yn__!_" she said, thanking him.

She embraced the Hound, its fur engulfing her as she did and in return it merely smiled. It turned to Link, and he found himself confronted with its eyes, windows to an ageless soul. The boy almost shivered, not from fear so much as the potency of its gaze. The varinar took no notice, wordlessly 'speaking' once more.

_(You are a long way from home, Children of the Forest, but fear not. Climb, and you shall find there is no swifter steed than I.)_

Both did so, somewhat slowly, sharing a belief that this was all a dream and fearing that at any moment it could all dissipate like mist but finding that no, this was real. Once they were aboard, the Hound raised its head and let loose a mighty howl that seemed to shudder every tree for leagues around them, such was its volume and strength. The wolf broke into a run, instantly proving beyond any doubt its claims of speed unmatched. The children laughed and smiled as they watched the whole forest pass them like a blur of colour as their steed leapt and bounded over every feature of terrain without so much as a pause for breath.

To say that Saria was overjoyed would be too simple. A living, breathing participant in the stories that both captivated and defined her, and here she was astride like one of the warriors of old, something unseen for generations. When the varinar slowed and ceased its flight near the borders of the wood, her heart wept. Yet she was also content for this brief instant, for today she had followed in the footsteps of the Ancients and truly felt among their company, just as Link had said.

As the children walked away with hands held to each other, the ancient spirits looked on at them from afar.

_(Your latest ward seems to have found herself a true love.)_

"I suspected as much. Even though it's been over a thousand years, there's truly no mistaking that glow, is there? Why, I've not seen it since…" the fairy trailed off, his voice sombre.

_(Since young Arawin, yes. I miss him dearly as well. Yet from what you have told me, she is a worthy heir to his legacy, and if I may say so, blessed to have your guidance.)_

"Yes, yes I suppose so, or hope at least… They may not know it, but they're our last hope."

_(Indeed, the Old Ways, like the Cocýry themselves, are all but gone. I have faith though, the spirit of the Wild Hunt shall not die so easily, not if they have anything to say about it. For that they will have my eternal gratitude.)_

"And mine as well."

* * *

Before reaching the village, Saria turned to her newly-beloved.

"Link, I've been meaning to ask you, what's that you've been carrying around this whole time?"

"Oh! One of the Scrubs had it and I thought I'd give it to you as a Yuletide gift. It's a hat, I think."

He revealed it, placing it upon his head in demonstration. Saria simply burst out laughing.

"Link you _goofball_, that's not a hat, it's a wreath! You hang it on your door as a decoration."

"Oh, do… do you still want it?"

"If it's a gift from you, absolutely."

"Even though gift-giving is a Hylian tradition?"

"Well it's like you said, the rituals don't matter do they? It's about caring for the people who mean something to you, and you very much do; more than anyone."

Her eyes suddenly caught an errant cluster of leaves hiding within the needles of the wreath, standing out as a different plant entirely. To the Cocýry it would be called _yluas__ë_, but in Hylish it was known as 'mistletoe.' With a smile she plucked it, holding it above her head as she drew Link closer.

"In fact, there's one Hylian tradition I'm going to have to _insist_ on."

"Which one?"

Dropping the sprig of mistletoe, she embraced him, holding the back of his head to draw him into their very first kiss. It was passionate, innocent, tender, and pure; but to Link it was nothing less than the best gift he'd ever received.

* * *

**THE END**


End file.
